Ebola

  by Burnell F Eckardt Jr

  in collaboration with the editorial staff

          There’s been plenty of well-founded worry about the Ebola virus these days. As I write this, we’re already tracking the possibilities of its spread through two Dallas nurses who contracted the disease from the Liberian man who came here and has died. One of those nurses took a flight to and from Cleveland, and that plane has been to Florida. Some schools have closed as precautions. Who knows where this can go? By the time you read this it may have been stanched, or it may have become epidemic, official reassurances to the contrary notwithstanding.

            One cannot help but think of the plagues of the Middle Ages to find points of comparison, most especially the Black Death of the mid-fourteenth century in which over a third of all Europeans died. But we can also make a more recent comparison. Having just recently updated the chronicles of St. Paul’s in Kewanee, I happen to be somewhat versed in the ease with which a plague can suddenly sweep across even a nation that has the advantage of knowing more than medieval folk did about how disease is spread.

            In 1918, the Spanish Flu pandemic reached the shores of America, probably through the U.S. Government War Exhibition in Chicago, which opened in September of that year and brought a quarter of a million visitors. Chicago was the nation’s largest rail hub at the time.   As was the case across Illinois, Kewanee’s first announced victims were servicemen who were still away from home, but soon the ravages of the disease were felt by families here and across the nation.  By the end of October, over 40,000 new cases were reported in Chicago in one week alone. In the same month Kewanee noted its first local death of an influenza victim.

            Articles appearing in the Kewanee Star Courier appear to have been written with the aim of quelling people’s fears.  Weekly stories would announce the reported decline of new cases, or of good news on the flu front.  An often-reprinted article entitled “Spanish Influenza—What It Is and How It Should Be Treated,” confidently averred that it is “nothing new . . . simply the old ‘grippe’” of 1889-90, and insisted that there was “no occasion for panic.”  When the war ended in November, the newspaper declared that the city received the news with “unbridled joy.”   At year’s end a half-page artist’s sketch chronicled the year’s mostly significant events, and most of it was devoted to excitement about the war’s drawing to a close, while allowing only a small corner to note that “Uncle Sam got the flu.”

            But obituaries didn’t lie, and since the middle of October there had been a steady stream of reports of new local victims who had died of “the flu and pneumonia.” And since it was customary in those days to print obituaries on the front page of the paper, their daily appearance seemed almost to mock the newspaper’s valiant if pitiful attempts to maintain a bright outlook.

            One of the particularly odious facets of a plague—and this pandemic certainly qualified as a plague—is that spiritual care became difficult to obtain in a time when it was most sorely needed.  The city of Kewanee closed all its public places, and all the local churches had agreed to cooperate.  By the year’s end they had all ceased to conduct services, with the sole exception of the funerals, which of necessity were held away from the church, and at which attendance was kept to an absolute minimum. St. Paul’s closed its doors with an announcement that arrangements could be made with the pastor for private catechetical instruction.   The church stayed closed for thirteen weeks.

Usually the victims of influenza would die within a single week of their contraction of the disease.  Delirium was not uncommon.  People everywhere were getting sick.  The city of Chicago ran out of hearses.  Morgues were stacked to the ceiling with bodies.

The pandemic didn’t actually abate until the late spring and summer of 1919.  Researchers estimate that between 30 and 50 million people died worldwide, with an estimated 675,000 Americans being among the dead.

St. Paul’s was able to open its doors sometime early in 1919, though people were still dying.  In one week alone during that period there were five funerals.  The official church record puts the number of deaths from influenza at 11.  It took until sometime in the year 1920 for the horrendous chapter of the influenza plague to come, thankfully, to an end, and, as was the case in all of mankind’s previous plagues, an awareness began to settle in that it was not yet the end of the world.

So today we are facing the threat of Ebola. We have received word that some of our Liberian brothers have questions about our communion practice and we realize these questions might soon afflict us as well. What of the common cup? What of the reliquae (leftover elements)? Should this disease take on the marks of an actual pandemic among us, we may once again be in need of extraordinary measures, and history can guide us. Under extraordinary circumstances, it might be proper for churches to take extraordinary measures, to quell fears where possible. There will surely be a temptation to attempt a sterile distribution of the Lord's Supper. The pastor should wash his hands thoroughly before the Service, but extra care might be taken and public awareness of this precaution could be raised. Hand-shaking could be forbidden. And certainly, the idea that glass individual cups could be used, perhaps with vodka dampened purificators or other precautions, will be brought up as more sanitary than the chalice.

The editors have considered all these things, and it seems to us all that such precautions are really no guarantee of complete sterility and that our fathers felt that the best course was not to change the mode of distribution but to abstain from public communion services; and we think that if we do face an actual pandemic of plague proportions, this would still be the best and safest course. Pastoral care would have to be handled mostly in a private way and may even require at times, if the communicant is quarantined or some such thing, the use of rubber gloves and a face mask by the celebrant. Unless the pandemic shuts down the power grid and the internet, we will enjoy ways of preaching to and catechizing our people that our fathers did not have. If things do get out of hand, it might become necessary, once again, to close our churches altogether for awhile and rely solely on individualized pastoral care and electronic media.

We do have plenty of reason, however, even from a medical point of view, to be hopeful that no such thing will befall us in these days. It is certainly true that the Lord will provide and that He might well deliver us to Himself through Ebola or some other horrific disease. We trust, without flinching, that if the Lord deliver us to that fate through the Chalice or the Services of the Church that it is His good and gracious will to do so and that the forgiveness of sins that always comes to the faithful through the Lord's Supper will be what we truly need. Indeed, such an end, as all those that God gives, will be a blessing. But we should not shirk our duty to the 5th commandment in all of this or engage in extra-Biblical fantasy that the Lord never delivers crosses through the means of grace. The Lord never hurts or harms His children in any place or time and certainly He never harms them in the Lord's Supper, but the Lord does call His people home and allow them to suffer trials on this side of glory. We do not refuse medical care because the Lord provides and we should not ignore the dangers of plague if it is visited upon us. Again: extraordinary and temporary measures may be necessary. Meanwhile, like many before who have not only been threatened by plagues, but have actually suffered them, we can, and should, pray. For the prayer of a righteous man availeth much.

An LCMS "TV" Series: Leaving Eden

By Larry Beane

Leaving Eden is an interesting project.  It is based on notes written by Greg Batiansila the son of an LCMS pastor.  It is a web-based series (I created a YouTube playlist of all ten episodes below).

[Note: if you want to watch YouTube videos on your TV, one way to do this is by streaming through your Roku player from your smartphone by using a free app called Twonky.  It isn't nearly as complicated as it sounds.  Here is an article that can point you in the right direction.]

The series is set in an LCMS congregation called Good Shepherd.  It openly makes references to being a Lutheran congregation, to Luther, to Walther, using words like "district" and "synod."  The storyline focuses on the pastor (the Rev. Ben Nicholson), his family, and the newly-arrived vicar (Lucas Carlove).

The series has a "documentary" look and feel.  Each episode lasts only between 12 and 15 minutes.  It strikes me as a postmodern video version of The Hammer of God that addresses the church's challenges in our own day and age and cultural setting.  It shows the behind-the-scenes struggles facing pastors and their families, as well as those plaguing their congregants.

I do recommend it, and find it to be remarkably realistic - in spite of its glaring weaknesses, which I will address first: its portrayal of Lutheran worship and preaching.

Worship

There is very little by way of worship depicted in the series.  And in its defense, it is primarily about what happens during the week as people struggle day to day plying their vocations in a fallen world and post-Christian culture.  Nevertheless, when worship is portrayed, it is un-Lutheran.  The pastor wears no clerical garb or vestments, there is no liturgical dialogue between pastor and people, and a drum kit is clearly visible in the front.  This is a terrible missed opportunity to not only portray authentic Lutheranism, but to demonstrate how Christ comes to His suffering people (preachers and hearers alike) in Word and Sacrament.

There is not a single instance of someone taking the Lord's Supper, receiving this most holy comfort for the troubled Christian.  There is no portrayal of confession and absolution - in spite of sin and its effects being front and center in the series.  There is not a single reference to Holy Baptism.  In one short scene of worship, parishioners are holding up their hands Pentecostal-style.  When it comes to worship and sacraments, this congregation could change its name to "Good Shepherd Methodist" and it would not have altered the series one bit, and in fact, it might have increased its authenticity.

When the pastor prays, the prayers are likewise un-Lutheran.  It isn't just that they are exclusively ex corde prayers (which every parish pastor makes ample use of), but they are vacuously worded imitations of the worst type neo-evangelical prayers that are largely fluff.

Needless to say, there is no reference to praying the psalms nor the comfort of turning to Scripture or to prayer books as a means to leading a prayerful Christian devotional life.

Preaching

The other unfortunate weakness in the series is the way preaching is portrayed.  One of the strengths of our Lutheran tradition is our homiletics.  Lutheran pastors are trained to craft Christocentric and Christological sermons.  In the real world, pastors quickly learn that gimmicks are not what people need in their day to day struggles with sin, death, and the devil.  The series blew a golden opportunity to show the world the gem that is a proper Lutheran proclamation of Christ crucified, of law and gospel, and of the biblical centrality of our preaching.

Instead, we see the pastor preaching off the cuff holding a garbage bag that he says includes dirty diapers.  The vicar shows up to preach wearing some sort of beach flotation device.  The preaching is, in the typical manner of non-denominational congregations, vacuous and experiential without much Christ.

What the Series Does Well

In spite of the above criticisms, there is much that the series has going for it.

It portrays pastoral care in a post-Christian, postmodern context quite accurately and authentically.  The pastor's neighbor, a young woman who has become good friends with the pastor's wife, is a typical young American.  She is a good neighbor, nice, helpful, but utterly unversed in Christianity - which she approaches as a quaint curiosity comprised of "Jesus people."  A young couple who are in the pastor's office for marital counseling are extremely accurately portrayed as absolutely uninterested in the faith.  They are jumping through hoops just to get their wedding, their body language displaying that familiar passive-aggressive hostility that every modern pastor has seen with young couples who do not attend services but whose relatives want a "church wedding."

The series does a great job of showing how categorical theology as practiced theoretically (in the idealism and naivety of the vicar) becomes messier and more complicated and nuanced in the real world where people actually live and breathe and have their being.

The series portrays the parochial antagonist, how bad church meetings can be, the pastor's and congregation's financial struggles, the pastor's constant failed effort to make time for his family, the stress in the lives of the pastor and the laity of the church, health and heathcare issues, the pastor's fear of "losing his job," the impotence of the district (which is truly a "best construction"), the fact that the pastor and his family are giving of themselves to the point where they struggle to receive spiritual help and friendship themselves.

All painfully true for pretty much any clergy family that has been in the parish for any amount of time.

The series deals with real-world matters such as divorce, how to tell who is lying, dysfunctional personalities, alcoholism, jail, death, the cancer ward, bad checks, complicated relationship issues, and the children of the pastor who are constantly placed at the back of the queue for dad's time.

The series clearly reflects an insider's view of the real-world life of the pastor's family, as well as a behind-the-scenes view of the good, bad, and ugly in parochial life, including a new convert, a teacher in what seems to be the parochial school, members of the church council, the church secretary, and of course, the vicar.

And yet, it is not all bad.  The pastor's ministrations are not in vain.  People do manage to receive pastoral care even in a culture of unbelief, even with horrific struggles, even as the pastor basically sees his work as triage at best, always tottering on the edge of failure.  And like real life, there are a few surprises along the way as people often behave in ways contrary to what we might expect.

The series is authentically Lutheran in its portrayal of the Theology of the Cross.  And that, I think, makes it worth overlooking the bad worship and preaching while seeing how the wheels of grace meet the highway of the fallen world in a way that is not contrived or idealized.  That is the one thing that redeems the series and makes it worthwhile.

The filmmakers are raising funds to put out a second season.  Here are some interviews.  [Note: Thank you to my parishioner Louise for bringing this to my attention!]

Why?

By Larry Beane

As a postscript to Fr. Curtis's advice on advice, I would like to offer some of my own.

Actually, I don't really have advice so much as some questions. In this video, two of my brother pastors are giving the same advice that I would also give a new pastor (and I frequently do). In no way am I questioning their wisdom. Like I said, I agree with this advice in general - which is what a YouTube video is: general advice. And I believe the only way to keep a man in the ministry - a man who has devoted four years of his life, possibly his family's life, four years of seminary and church resources, financial and otherwise, to train for the holy ministry - is to really be careful about making changes in the parish. I think most of us in the ministry have seen and experienced the heartbreak of classmates and friends, brothers in the office, who have quit or been run out of their parishes by trying to change something. And so, to new graduates, we all counsel "festina lente" - make haste slowly - especially in matters of worship.  It is such universal advice as to be cliche.

In the video, the second pastor speaks of things that will make the new pastor "uncomfortable."  I think he has hit on something very profound.  Pastors - especially new pastors - can expect "discomfort."  He doesn't mean that the temperature might be too high in his study or that his shoes don't fit well any more.  Rather, he is referring to things that will cause a pastor spiritual discomfort, discomfort in his conscience, in what he knows is right, in his being hamstrung from leading and teaching what he himself has been led and taught to do. For that is what many of our seminary graduates find when they are sent forth to their primary congregations. In some cases, these men will be shocked and scandalized by what they will find.

In spite of the fact that, as Fr. Duddleswell pointed out from the BBC series "Bless Me, Father," it is an "ugly Protestant word," I am going to ask: "Why?"  Why are pastors uncomfortable in theology and practice, and perhaps must remain so for years, decades, or even their entire ministries?  Why?

Why do we teach men in seminary that we in the LCMS practice closed communion - not because it is policy, not because it is in the handbook, not because some bureaucrat or convention (popes and councils) have decreed it by parliamentary fiat - but because it is the right and proper thing to do, the biblical thing to do, the Christian thing to do - only to then tell these men to act immorally, contrary to the Bible, and against what the church has always done - once they get into a real parish?

This is the very definition of dissonance.

Why do we pledge to norm our teaching by the Book of Concord, which unambiguously confesses against infrequent communion, and is actually quite clear that the Holy Sacrament is to be offered at least weekly - only to pull the stilts out from a man and encourage him to violate the confessions (at least for a spell) that he has sworn to uphold as soon as he actually gets a call?

Why do we train seminarians meticulously in the theology and practice of the liturgy only to tell them to yield to their congregation's wishes (even if it is just for a while) to abolish it if that is what they encounter when they leave the seminary's bosom?

In any other context, we encourage people to keep their vows - even if it is unpopular. We never counsel a seminarian or newly minted pastor to cheat on his wife if that's what is going on in his parish (at least for the time being), until he has "earned their trust," until he has led Bible studies, preached sermons, and distributed CPH tracts on marital fidelity for a period of months or years.

We don't encourage pastors to ignore the commandments the way we encourage them to ignore entire articles of the Augsburg Confession (at least until enough catechesis has happened).

Why do we educate our pastors about the importance of these matters only to tell them they are not actually so important to actually do them when they actually get a call - in the interest of not being a "bull in the china shop" or not being "winsome" or some such?

Again, I am not encouraging anyone to be a "bull in the china shop." The situation is what it is. If you go into your first call and immediately institute every-Sunday Eucharist, abolish non-liturgical worship, or close down the "y'all come" communion statement, there is a right good chance you will swiftly be CRM, unemployed, or maybe even divorced. You might be moving back in with your parents and looking for a fast-food restaurant that is interested in hiring M.Div.'s who washed out of the pastoral ministry.

But again, I am asking "why" this is.

I think the answer is this: we don't believe Walther.

Yes, that's it. And I'm not a particularly big fan of Walther.

But we give grandiloquent lip service to Wather's Law and Gospel. We use the very words as almost a mystical incantation, even pronouncing it in some cases as "Lawn Gospel". It is as Lutheran as brats and beer. But here is the problem: if a congregation (or a subset of members) refuses to accept a pastor's instruction and exercise of pastoral shepherding - be it for closed communion, frequent communion, or liturgical worship - they are sinning. It may well be a case of a small faction of the congregation that is leading the charge against "the new guy" who wants to "change" how "we've always done things." Not only are such parishioners sinning by endorsing unbiblical practices and/or violating their own promises to abide by the Lutheran confessions, but they are adding rebellion against authority and impenitence to the mix. And if things get ugly - as they often do in these situations - rumors and attacks on reputations, gossip and slander may start flying around the parish.

And so we tell the pastor just to sidestep the whole thing, go along to get along. Back up ten yards and punt. Hopefully, you will get the ball back in the fourth quarter (i.e. when you are nearing retirement and the antagonists in your parish have all gone to their eternal reward).

We do not counsel the pastor to call the sinners to repentance. We do not encourage the pastor to - in Walther's words - give "not one drop" of the Gospel to the impenitent. In fact, we tell him to do the polar opposite: to yield to the sinner. It's just easier. It's less trouble. The paychecks keep coming. The seminary doesn't have egg on its face. It keeps the DP off your case. And you get to look "pastoral" and "wise" in not confronting the sinner.

But I want to ask again, "Why?"  Why do we ignore Law and Gospel in this case?

And to that question, I think the answer may be that we believe Walther a little too much. Poor C.F.W. just can't get a break!

I think much of the problem is our Waltherian polity. Pastors are not just beholden to, but dependent upon, the very people whom he is expected to call to repentance. It is not unusual for the biggest donors to be the most demanding, the loudest and pushiest of those who object to things like liturgical worship, closed communion, and weekly Eucharist. Often the very people leading the charge to compel the pastor to tolerate sin are the ones the pastor can ill afford to tick off.  The sheep corral the shepherds.  Hebrews 13:17 is turned on its head.  The pastor is a hireling.

Moreover, the pastor is caught between the pincers of the congregation and the district office. In our current polity, the District President wields considerable power. It may be apocryphal, but I've heard a quote attributed to Dr. William Weinrich that our district presidents today enjoy powers that Roman Catholic bishops can only covet. If a pastor causes headaches for his DP, the DP can in turn blackball the pastor - even if only informally, by dropping a name or raising an eyebrow.

And so new pastors are told from every source imaginable: the congregation, the district president, the seminary, and yes even from Gottesdienst editors - make changes "slowly" - a pace that might even be so slow as to not make them at all.  Gospel reductionism covers a multitude of antinomianism.

But woe to you, Pastor, if you do not heed this advice even if you heed your conscience. You will very likely be eaten for lunch. Your reputation may be trashed, you might lose your salary, your district president may put you under restriction, your former professors may pretend you don't exist, your colleagues in the ministry may click their tongues when they talk about you, and you might even find yourself depressed and on psychotropic drugs.  And you would have plenty of company.

And like the poor vicars who are compelled against their consciences to speak the Words of Institution over bread and wine, nobody in the seminary or the ministerium or the synod bureaucracy will help you. In their defense, they cannot. Our polity leaves pastors (and those training to be pastors) twisting in the wind.

In fairness, there is not much anyone can do other than mourn the loss of our friends while secretly thanking God that it isn't us that has been devoured - at least this time.  This is our dirty little secret.  I don't have any answers nor any advice of my own other than to reiterate our Lord's pastoral advice to the apostles to be "wise as serpents and as innocent as doves" (Matt 10:16) and St. Paul's pastoral advice to St. Timothy: "No longer drink only water, but use a little wine" (1 Tim 5:23).  The former advice is paradoxically theological, while the latter is therapeutically practical - even as both are biblical.

And as Fr. Curtis says, your mileage may vary.

Checklists in the Ministry

Earlier this year, I read this book review of The Checklist Manifesto. "Checklists seem able to defend everyone, even the experienced, against failure in many more tasks than we realized. They provide a kind of cognitive net. They catch mental flaws." And this is really the major point. Checklists help people get done what needs to get done without as many mistakes.

Consider for example packing lists, grocery lists, recipes. These are just checklists. Now I could do all of these things without, but when I do I usually forget something. And that's what we're trying to avoid. We're trying to avoid missing something. We don't want to have to reinvent the wheel every time. So we make lists of what needs to be done.

There are some things that we do as pastors that can benefit from a checklist. This is one of the points behind Fr. Curtis's post on Concerning Pulpit Supply. Another of these things is funerals.

Funerals require a lot of components. And this can be difficult to remember because you can't always plan for when they are coming. A well-made checklist can relieve you of the stress that comes with the  thought: I hope I'm not forgetting anything. So here is a checklist that Fr. Christopher Seifferlein has made for funerals.

Part of his checklist includes what readings to use with the family at different stages and what to focus on. Having prefabbed sermon outlines like this can be very helpful for when you are on your way to visit the grieving family and you're thinking to yourself: "Um, what do I say? What am I going to talk about?" The LSB Agenda and the Pastoral Care Companion help a lot, but they don't do it all. You still have times when you're expected to say something that isn't from the book. So spend a few minutes now going through a few of the suggested texts for "At the Visitation," "For Those In Grief," etc, and put together a short outline of what you say when you visit them. (I have done this for hospital visits. I have something I do for my first visit, second, and then returning home, something for pre-surgery and post-surgery, etc. I don't always stick to it because I also use the propers for the week. But having it there takes the pressure off in case I get a midnight call or something.)

Anyway here is the list:

Funeral Checklist

Before Funeral Home

• Pray for the deceased and for the family
• Pull File and/or Church Records
• Determine age of deceased:  ____
• Arrange the ringing of the church bell
• Call church organist to determine availability
• Determine time and date of funeral home meeting: ________________

At Funeral Home

• Readings & Prayer-Discuss the theological purpose of the funeral

Widow at Nain-Remembrance, Grief, Burial, Words of Christ (Why are we here, what are we here for, my role)

• Determine the time and date of service:____________
• Determine organist arrangements
• Discuss placement of casket during visitation (narthex or at the front of the nave)
• Determine how many pews to reserve on each side of church.
• Explain Funeral Pall its use symbolism, request assistance from pall bearers if so desired
• Determine cemetery where burial will take place
• Discuss the families wishes regarding the desire to stay by the cemetery until the casket is lowered.
• Request Favorite Hymn & Reading Selections from Family
• Determine meal and menu arrangements.  Give name/# of individual to call for luncheon to funeral director
• Determine the number of people expected for the service: ____
• Determine the number of people expected for the luncheon: ____

After Funeral Home

• Call Elders/arrange Elder(s) to assist with funeral
• Call Head of Luncheon Committee (Carol Navis)
• Call Cemetery Sexton (Bob Navis)
• Call janitor and arrange for church to be cleaned before and after the service

In Preparation for Service

• Determine Readings
• Determine Hymns
• Call and relate service information to organist
• Complete Bulletin
• Liturgy Preparation
• Sermon Preparation
• Prepare Wake Readings/Prayer-Theme: “Jesus In Remembrance of Me,” or “Upper Room.”
• Prepare Pre-Service Readings/Prayer-Mary/Martha-Sustained by Jesus Words

On the day of the funeral

• Meet with elder to go through the service: ringing of the bell at the beginning of the service, ringing of the bell at the end of the service  
• Meet with organist to go through the service including the execution of the prelude/postlude
• Meet with Funeral Director to go through the service including placement of the casket, funeral pall
• Get out the funeral pall

After Funeral Service

• Put Death Date in Computer
• Put dates on computer to call the deceased
• Fold up funeral pall
• Put Funeral on Official Acts of the next Council Meeting

Use this as a starting point. Not every place is the same, so you will have to adjust it for your circumstances. But it's a great start. And the likely hood of you forgetting something, will be smaller.

Insisting on Adiaphora (or Not)

We do not insist on adiaphora.  That is to say, we do not insist upon what God has not required; nor do we forbid what God has not prohibited.  We are, after all, called "Gottesdienst Online," not "Adiaphora Online."  We are concerned with God's Service, not with any human pretense or presumption.  And, besides all that, as editors of a blog, we are not anyone's bishop; leastwise not here.  That's not who we are, nor what we do.

To be sure, we do advocate and urge some adiaphora over other alternatives, because, among the many things that God has left free, some practices are better and stronger than others.  We have our preferences, no doubt, and we also have our reasons for preferring some practices over others.  It is also the case that we editors of Gottesdienst do not agree among ourselves on every point; in part because different contexts and different circumstances suggest different approaches, and in part because we are different people with different gifts.  Sometimes, too, it happens that one or the other of us will change his mind.  For all of these reasons and more, we cherish the freedom for which Christ has set us free, because it is the freedom to repent, the freedom to learn and grow, and the freedom to serve and care for the Church on earth.

What God has left free, that is, what He has neither commanded nor forbidden, remains free and clear before Him.  We do not presume otherwise.  Such freedom belongs to the righteousness of faith in Christ, and it is a most precious gift and treasure of His Gospel.  To insist upon any work or sacrifice of the Law, as though by it to obtain the forgiveness of sins, justification and salvation, is flat-out false doctrine.  All the more so, then, to insist upon some adiaphorous practice as though it were necessary for salvation is surely twisted and wicked.  So, too, the requirement that something God has left free must either be done or not done, as though the power and efficacy of the Gospel itself depended upon it, is pernicious and quite wrong.  We dassn't do that.  And we don't.

Now, then, the righteousness of love for the neighbor, and of good order, peace, and harmony within family, church, and state, is another matter.  There the Law must do its duty to serve and protect in the midst of sin and death.  Not only because we live, for now, in a fallen world, but also because we live, by God's grace, in His well-ordered creation.  Although the Lord holds all things in His hand, and He governs all things by His Word, He has given man dominion over the works of His hands, as demonstrated, for example, by Adam's naming of all the animals.  And whereas God has left so many of the details and specifics of life on earth free and unscripted, He has given fathers of various kinds to exercise wisdom and judgment, and so also to establish rules, for the benefit of those under their paternal care.  Fathers are not free to contradict or disobey the Word of the Lord, but under His authority they are free to establish and enforce rules of conduct according to the particular context and circumstances of their own "family," whether that be a single household, a village or city, a state or the entire country.

St. Paul relates the paternal management of household and family to the work of pastors and bishops, who are called and ordained to be spiritual fathers of the household and family of God (1 Timothy 3:4-5).  That apostolic word informs and supports our Lutheran confession that "it is lawful for bishops, or pastors, to make ordinances so that things will be done orderly in the Church" (AC XXVIII.53).

As spiritual fathers, pastors and bishops not only can, but should make decisions and even insist upon particular practices that God has not universally commanded or forbidden; certainly not as though to "merit grace or make satisfaction for sins" (AC XXVIII.54), but for the benefit of the Church on earth in her life together.  Some of those decisions will be unique to each congregation, and that is the nature of pastoral care.  But many others will also connect and relate to the larger fellowship of the Church.  Which means that pastors ought to act in consultation and harmony with one another in caring for, leading and guiding their respective parishes.  Bishops with fraternal oversight of the pastors in their own proximity, "diligently joined in unity of doctrine, faith, sacraments, prayer, works of love, and such" (SA II.IV.9), may also serve to promote the harmony of the Church's life together.

The truth is, because God has left so many of the specific details "free," there must be some insistence upon adiaphora if there is to be any sort of "community."  Rules of conduct held in common within each particular household and family, as well as broader rules of mutual engagement within the larger fellowship of the Church, enable brothers and sisters in Christ, and brother pastors and sister congregations, to live and work together in faith, hope, and charity, each person and each parish according to his, her, or its particular place. The freedom of faith in the Gospel does not prohibit but permits and makes possible such rules or "rubrics" of familial life.  The Church on earth necessarily makes these decisions, as she always has and always will, in one way or another.  Some forms of ecclesiastical polity and governance work better than others, and that may vary according to time and place, but there must be some such polity and governance in place.  Ideally, at ground level, the pastors will care for their own respective congregations in the way that responsible, God-fearing and law-abiding fathers care for their own families, within the context of the communities in which they live.

The Gottesdienst editors, as pastors, do engage in such paternal care of their respective congregations.  But, collectively, as "Gottesdienst Online," we do not insist on adiaphora.  What we do is to advocate and urge the use of godly ceremonies, because such practices contribute to the catechesis and confession of the Word of Christ; they honor the means of grace and the ministry of the Gospel; and they adorn the Church with beauty and glory.  Along with that, we also defend the freedom to do that which is truly free in faith and love.

What we insist upon is the doing of what God has commanded, and the not doing of what God has forbidden.  Thus, along with our Lutheran Confessions, we deplore and decry frivolity, irreverence, anarchy and chaos, spectacles of worldly entertainment, and whatever else contradicts or undermines the Word of Christ (FC SD X.1, 7, 9).  Such things are not adiaphora, but are contrary to the Word of God, and are thus forbidden by God.  Permitting such practices to continue without comment within the fellowship of the Church would be irresponsible and wrong.  So we speak in opposition to frivolity and irreverence, even as we defend and recommend the practice of godly ceremonies that promote dignity and reverence.

Paying for the Ambiance

Recent conversations with a younger colleague have included a fair amount of deja vu, as he has been experiencing many of the same things that I did in my first several years as a pastor. He's a good and faithful man, and I'm impressed with the way that he's handling himself and responding to the various situations that he faces. I know that he's going to do well, but I'm also glad for the chance to serve him as a sounding board and a sympathetic ear, because I know how much it meant to me, when I was at that point, to find the same.

As I listen to my friend and colleague, and as I recall my own past experience, I take note again how powerful ceremonies are. Little things clearly mean a lot, in this respect, and all the rhetoric in the world will not render the actual practice of adiaphora insignificant. Something as simple and unobtrusive as the sign of the cross, or as basic and biblical as kneeling before the Lord, can make a lasting impression. The freedom of such things does not rob them of real point and purpose.

At the same time, I also realize with growing clarity that there is something else at work, which, while it does permeate and inform the use of reverent ceremonies, is already yet deeper than ceremony and prior to it. Of course, I'm not here referring to the constitutive ceremonies of the Holy Sacraments, which are foundational and central to the Church and to the Christian faith and life. Rather, I'm talking about an attitude of the heart and mind that precedes the use of godly human ceremonies, such as vestments and chanting, the sign of the cross, elevation and genuflection.

The attitude of which I speak is a matter of repentant faith, but also of theological conviction. It belongs to personal piety, reverence and worship, but also to pastoral commitment, faithfulness and service. It will insist on that which God has commanded, and refuse what He has forbidden. It will also leave free what God has left free; which means that it may live without the use of godly human ceremonies, and it may allow the use of less-than-ideal practices, in love for the neighbor. Lay people may tolerate more or fewer ceremonies than they prefer, for the sake of hearing the Gospel rightly preached and receiving the Sacrament according to the Word of Christ. Pastors, likewise, may practice more or fewer ceremonies than they prefer, in order to care for their congregations with gentle kindness and evangelical patience. I know that many pastors, including my young friend and colleague, willingly compromise their own preferences for the sake of pastoral care. It is good and right that they do.

Yet, the attitude of which I speak still emerges, no matter how few or many ceremonies it may exercise in practice. It makes an impression and leaves a mark, sometimes in ways that are difficult, if not impossible, to put a finger on. I have in mind an ambiance that permeates every word, every movement, whether in sparse simplicity or with the most elaborate and extensive ceremony. By the same token, such ambiance cannot be faked by any amount of formality, if the attitude of the heart and mind is absent.

A pastor who understands and loves the Gospel as the open heart of God in Christ — by which sinners are forgiven and the ungodly are justified by grace, by the Atonement of the Lord's own Cross and Passion — such a pastor cannot help but preach and teach in harmony with that Gospel. A pastor who knows the beauty and benefit of Holy Absolution will be engaged in genuine pastoral care, in conversation as in the confessional; because the Office of the Keys defines the entire Office of the Holy Ministry, which is not only what the pastor does, but who he is. A pastor who has realized and perceives that Holy Baptism is fundamental and foundational to the entire Christian faith and life, and that the Holy Communion is the beating heart and center of the Church, cannot help but orientate himself and everything he does in relation to those Holy Sacraments. His whole bearing and demeanor will bend and gravitate toward those means of grace, like a plant finding the sunlight; whether he finds himself able to elevate the Sacrament or bend the knee before it; with or without traditional vestments.

Where there is the attitude of which I speak, there will be the ambiance I have in mind: an ambiance that exudes the most reverent High Church Liturgy and the most ancient catholicity of the Lord's Bride, fully adorned as a Queen by His Gospel, even when she must content herself with the simple attire of a humble peasant in her life on earth.

Where there is that attitude and ambiance, a new pastor is likely to pay for it, even as he bends over backwards to accommodate the people of his congregation with gentleness and patient care. He may give up and do without godly human ceremonies, and move ever so slowly with respect to any changes in practice. And yet, the people will perceive that there is something about this new pastor and his practice, something that still says "catholic." They will feel the ambiance, even though they can't identify the source or cause of it. Many of the people may be uncomfortable at first, but, given time, most of them will grow into it and learn to love it, because, in their faithful pastor's preaching and teaching, they will learn to discover its source in the Gospel. Others will continue to chafe at the catholic ambiance they feel, and they will continue to agitate against it. Sadly, in some cases, those people will succeed in driving their pastor into the ground, or driving him away. In other cases, also sadly, they will give up and go away themselves, refusing to receive the good gifts that God would give them through their pastor.

But the pastor who really knows and loves the Gospel, who knows its heart and center in the Sacrament, cannot do away with the ambiance that undergirds his every move and permeates his every word. He may not even realize what it is that's making people respond in the way they are, especially when he's doing everything he can to put them at ease and to earn their trust and confidence as a tender shepherd of the Lord's sheep, as a loving father of the Lord's children. It may well break his heart at times, to see people get frustrated with him, to get angry at him, and even to leave the Church because of what he's "doing." But, in truth, it isn't anything he's "doing," so much as it is simply who and what he is: a man of the Gospel.

The ambiance of the Gospel is the warp and woof of true catholicity, and it neither can nor should be done away with. It is neither artifice nor affectation, but comprises an attitude of genuine affection for Christ Jesus.

Here is the good news, which neither the pastor nor the people have to pay for, because it has been purchased by the Lord Jesus and it is given freely to His Church by Him: The ambiance of His Gospel really does adorn even the humblest celebration of the Divine Service with the glorious beauty of heaven. Where His forgiveness is preached and heard, where His Body and Blood are given and received, there is the Lord's Temple on earth, outdoing King Solomon and surpassing the Emperor Justinian. There is an ambiance that no five-star restaurant on earth could ever hope to achieve. As such, the faithful pastor who must forego the use of many godly human ceremonies should not suppose that he or his congregation are lacking anything in piety, reverence, or worship. Let him constrain and discipline himself in the conduct of the Service, in the administration of the Sacrament, but let him do so in the confidence that the Church and Liturgy of Christ are adorned with His grace, mercy and peace.